Dance With Me
by Jackson Hanning
Summary: "Ah, you want to dance with me then, Roma?" He put down his guitar and extended a hand to the Italian. All he got in return was the view of the back of Romano's head as the boy made a prompt retreat. Spain smiled anyway. Spamano oneshot


_**See Canada? I can do Spamano, too.  
**_

_**In this oneshot, it is three clips of their relationship from progressive points in time. So one, Romano's a kid. Two, he's older. Three, even older and in a relationship and stuff. Just wanted to clarify so you're not confused and complaining. ;)**_

* * *

The soft strains of guitar music wafted through the air and found Romano in his bedroom. The round, juvenile face of the Italian boy relaxed from its standard frown as he listened in curiosity. It sounded pretty, and he hadn't heard any good music since he'd gotten here. Hell, this music was better than anything he'd heard since Grandpa left. He found himself being drawn toward the source of the sound, and ended up in the doorway of Spain's bedroom.

The Spanish nation sat on the edge of his bed, one foot tucked up under him, head bent over the instrument in his hands. His long, tanned fingers strummed and plucked at the strings to produce the heavenly sound, and Romano swayed unconsciously to the music, his eyes falling shut and the closest thing to a smile he'd had in years crossed his face.

Spain noticed him after a few moments. A smile lit the older nation's face as he saw the happy look on his young charge's face. Afraid that Romano's temper would spike and his mood go back to it's usual sullen and angry state, he kept his fingers moving over the strings while his eyes lingered on the Italian he now shared his home with. The younger nation had only been in his house for a matter of weeks, and this was the first time Spain had ever seen him smile. Yes, the look on his face had grown to a full blown smile, and the sight of this made Spain's heart giddy with joy. He was so lovely when he smiled.

The tune Spain played wasn't any song in particular. It was something he was making up as he went, just for the sake of playing. His guitar was one of his most prized possessions, and one of his favorite ways to spend a lazy Sunday morning like this was to pick it up and begin to play. It soothed his nerves, and helped him relax. And it seemed that Romano enjoyed the music as well.

G. C. D. E-minor. D. Back to G. Spain kept the chords simple and the flow steady, and even though the chords were effortless, the effect was hypnotizing. Spain began to hum softly along with the music. He had no words in mind, but he wished he could invent lyrics beautiful enough to describe the scene before him. Since he could not, he just kept playing. Spain wished that the moment would go on forever, yet he knew that it wouldn't, and therefore he tried to memorize it, so that he could hold onto it as long as possible. Still, it was over all too quickly.

Romano opened his eyes and frowned. Spain gave him a grin and kept playing, disappointed that the smile was gone, but hoping that the Italian would remain. "Do you like it, Romano?"

"It's _okay,_ bastard."

Spain grinned wider. "What if I speed it up, like this?" Spain changed chords and sped up the tempo, moving into an old Spanish dance song that he loved.

Romano's eyebrow quirked as he gave Spain a strange look. It made the older nation laugh. "Makes you want to dance, eh Romano?"

Romano crossed his arms. "Why would I want to dance?"

"Don't you know how to dance?"

Spain received a glare from the younger nation. "I didn't say I didn't know how, bastard. I'm Italian, I can dance circles around you any day of the week."

"Ah, you want to dance with me then, Roma?" He put down his guitar and extended a hand to the Italian. All he got in return was the view of the back of Romano's head as the boy made a prompt retreat. Spain smiled anyway.

* * *

Romano swayed back and forth slightly, in time to the music wafting out of the living room. He let himself relax and enjoy the beat and the rhythm coming from the stereo in the other room. Spain had turned it on a while ago, then gone outside to water the tomatoes.

The sight that greeted Spain when he came back inside made him grin. His Roma was dancing in the kitchen, hips swaying and body moving with the beat. And if he wasn't mistaken, Spain also thought he heard Romano singing along with the Spanish dance music. Spain sat his basket of tomatoes on the floor beside the doorway, careful not to make any noise and risk losing this wonderful, rare opportunity. When Romano turned away from the counter, Spain was right there, slipping one arm around Romano's waist and capturing Romano's hand in his own with a grin. Romano flushed and frowned as Spain started to dance with him. "What the hell do you think you're doing, bastard?"

"Dancing with you."

"Why?!"

"Because you were dancing!"

"I was not!"

Spain grinned down at his dance partner. "Still claiming that you can't dance, Roma?"

Romano scowled deeply. "I can dance, I just don't."

"Why not? Are you embarrassed?"

"W-what? No!" A bright red flush spread across Romano's face and down his neck. Then he set his mouth in a grim line and brought his gaze up to Spain's as he rested his free hand on the Spaniard's shoulder. "Fine. Let's dance, bastard."

Spain's brows rose with his surprise. This was a twist. He'd honestly expected Romano to be slamming a door halfway across the house at this point. Or at least glaring at him from across the kitchen. A confident smirk appeared on his face when the music slid into an upbeat dance song. Spain took the lead and Romano kept up.

Spain knew Romano was an excellent dancer. He could just tell, from the way he carried himself and from the few, rare times when he had come home to find Roma dancing the Tarantella alone. Still, even having seen these few, forbidden glimpses, Spain was impressed with just how good a dancer Romano was. Performing the steps in the Spanish dance looked as if they were as easy as breathing to Romano.

Three songs later, they were still dancing, spinning across the kitchen and through the living room and back around into the kitchen. Spain was laughing and Romano was beaming. They were happy. "You're dancing with me, Roma!"

Romano rolled his eyes. "Don't get too used to this, bastard. I still don't dance."

"But you will dance with me, no?"

The Italian nation breathed a deep sigh, then rolled his eyes again and smiled. "Sure, Spain. I'll dance with you."

* * *

Spain found Romano in their bedroom, weeping into his pillow. Spain said nothing, just sat on the bed behind Romano and gently pulled the Italian into his arms. Romano clung to Spain's shirt, but tried to wipe his tears away. "Don't say anything, bastard."

"I wasn't planning to," Spain replied softly, bring his hand up to stroke Romano's soft hair. He pressed a kiss to the silky brown locks and rested his cheek in the place he had kissed. After several minutes, Romano drew a deep, shaking breath.

"I'm not needed, you know. Not anymore. Veneciano's the important one. And how long did Prussia stick around after the Berlin Wall fell, anyway?"

"Prussia's still around, mi amor."

"He'll fade eventually. Everyone knows it. He knows it. We never last long once there's someone else in charge of our country."

"Don't think like that, Roma," Spain whispered fiercely. "You are South Italy. You've always been and you always will be South Italy. Veneciano isn't any more important to your country than you are."

"My boss doesn't think so," Romano whispered sullenly.

"Your boss is wrong, Romano," Spain said firmly.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Romano told him in a dull monotone.

Spain hesitated, wanting desperately to refute this idea that Romano had about his fading. Spain didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't even think about the idea that his precious Romano might be taken from him. It hurt to much to even imagine.

"Dance with me?"

Romano lifted his head and found Spain's gaze resting on him. "What?"

"Dance with me, Roma."

"We... we don't have any music."

"We don't need any. I just want to dance with you."

Romano held Spain's gaze for a long moment. Then some sort of unspoken agreement passed between the two of them and they stood. Spain pulled Romano into his arms and began to sway gently. Romano rested his head on Spain's shoulder, simply wanting to be close to his lover.

"I don't want to fade, Spain."

"I know, Roma."

"I want to stay here with you. Forever."

"I want that too, Romano."

"Will you keep dancing with me?"

"Always, Roma. Always and forever."

* * *

_**AHHHH. I almost made it angst, but it turned back into fluff. ;-;**_

_**I guess this one was always intended to be fluff anyway, so oh well.**_

_**Please to be reviewing?**_

_**-Jack**_


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